


Possibilities

by underground_archivist



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-16
Updated: 2008-10-16
Packaged: 2020-07-30 10:46:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 19,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20096002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underground_archivist/pseuds/underground_archivist
Summary: In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah.





	1. Sail

**Author's Note:**

> Note from banshee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Underground](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Underground_\(Labyrinth_archive\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Underground’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/underground/profile).
> 
> Hello! Yep, I’m starting another story though this will be sporadic. This is in response from a challenge on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum. Any fandom was allowed, and I instantly thought of Labyrinth when I saw the challenge.
> 
> This will be fifty chapters, each a different one-shot for a different prompt. I’m leaning towards making this drabble-esque but perhaps a few will be longer. These won’t be exactly connected unless I mention it – these are just each a short J/S piece of writing. 

  
Author's notes:

Hello! Yep, I’m starting another story though this will be sporadic. This is in response from a challenge on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum. Any fandom was allowed, and I instantly thought of Labyrinth when I saw the challenge.

This will be fifty chapters, each a different one-shot for a different prompt. I’m leaning towards making this drabble-esque but perhaps a few will be longer. These won’t be exactly connected unless I mention it – these are just each a short J/S piece of writing. 

And I think that’s everything – shall the storytelling begin? 

* * *

Prompt One: **_Sail_**

At yet another one of her mother’s parties, young Sarah dangled her feet over the edge of the sail boat. Her toes were far above the rippling water yet the breeze running through the spaces between her toes tickled pleasantly. The sun beating down on her face made her giggle and that was how the tall man found her.

“Are you one of Mother’s friends?” she asked the strange man. Her mother had told her to be polite to all of her friends. Her mother had gone and bustled about, lounging on Jeremy’s arm.

“No,” he said rather pleasantly. The man stared at her as if lost in thought

She put her head to the side and thought for a moment at that. He made no answer yet just stood there in suit and hair loose like a lion’s mane.

With no other thought of what to do, Sarah asked, “Have you sat of the edge of the boat like this?” She motioned towards her bare feet. Her white stockings and shoes lay on the swaying boat’s deck. Her mother hadn’t given her permission to do that yet they were all down off at the stern as they sipped there champagne and nibbled on cocktails.

The strange man shook his head. Sarah pitied him at that. “Then you must!” She jumped up and grabbed his hand – it was gloved yet Sarah paid no notice. Her mother’s friends were an odd lot – even if this man said he wasn’t one of them.

She tugged at his hand, and he complied sitting on the edge and letting her pull off his tall boots and his stockings. Sarah stuffed them in his boots, before having him turn and dangle his long toes over the edge.

His legs were much longer than hers yet they didn’t reach the water. Sarah could have gone back to the ecstasy of the breeze between her little toes but instead looked at the man’s face.

He had his eyes closed as the sun beat down on his pale face. A look of contentment was on his face – it didn’t look like it was there often. The water slapping against the side of the boat was a calm rhythm as he sighed and turned to young Sarah.

She smiled at him. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” 

“Very,” he said. “It’s very nice.”

They sat like that for the rest of the morning party. Oddly enough, her mother never came looking for her until her friends were long gone and the boat was docked. When she did arrive she found her daughter, clutching a red book to her breast. A look of puzzlement was on her face.

It wasn’t until after her mother brought her back to her father that she realized what she had forgotten – to ask for the man’s name.


	2. Turntables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Two: _**Turntables **_

“Mom! We’re going to be fine.” Pause. “No, you and Dad go to the convention. You’ve been waiting for this for months.” Longer pause. “Mom – you keep saying I have to grow up. I can take care of me and Sarah.” Sigh. “Fine, Sarah and I. But I can! We’re fine. Go to your meeting whatever. I’ll make sure she gets her medicine and everything.” Pause. “I’m positive.” Yet another pause. “Love you too. Bye.”

Toby hung the phone up and sighed before heading up the stairs. Usually it was Sarah baby-sitting him, but she had come down with a terrible cold right before her weekend stay with her family. Now, the tables had turned and Toby was Sarah’s baby-sitter.

Toby crept into Sarah’s room sat in her old chair. His sister did look terrible – her nose was red, her cheeks blotchy, and her eye’s irritated. Her bed was covered with the mass amount of tissues strewn all over. Sarah tossed and turned as the fever raged, unable to fall asleep.

Her brother stood and marched over to her bedside. She was rather weak, yet she stretched a hand out to him, once she realized he was there. Toby grabbed her hand, and gave it a small squeeze and a smile.

“You always used to tell me stories, Sarah. How about I tell you one?”

Sarah smiled faintly, and whispered, “Sure,” before Toby began.

“Once upon a time there was a boy who was constantly asked to grow up. He was baby-sat often by his sister. The boy didn’t understand how he was supposed to grow up unless he was able to take care of himself. The only way to do that would be that to find away that he didn’t need a baby-sitter anymore. So one day, the boy learned of something no one knew – the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with his sister and given her certain powers.”

The look on Sarah’s face, even in her delirium, was priceless.

Toby continued on, despite Sarah’s feeble protests and shaking of her head. “The boy knew he could use this to his advantage – and make both sides happy. So one day, he said the words.” He took a deep breath before saying loudly, “Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, take this sister of mine far away from me!”

The only sound was Sarah’s rapid breathing. Once she realized that he hadn’t said _the_ words, she calmed down, relaxing back into her pillows. She reached out and mussed her brother’s head and smiled weakly. “Joking?”

“Me?” He asked innocently. Toby patted her hand and rose to leave the room. “Do you really think I’d go and say a thing such as,” he paused as if thinking about it. “Oh, I don’t know – how about, I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now?”

Her gasp of surprise wasn’t heard as she was already gone.

Toby turned to the man hiding in the shadows. “You’ll take good care of her, right?”

Jareth smirked. “It’s a little late for that isn’t it?” At the boy’s look of outrage, Jareth’s face softened. “Of course I will. Shall I see you at Yuletide?”

Toby’s face held a sparkly grin as the King disappeared off to see his new bride.


	3. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Three: _**Fifteen**_

My favorite number? I don’t think I have one. How can you have a favorite number? Some people like seven because it’s supposedly a magical number. Some like ten because it’s the basis for so many numerical problems. I met someone once whose favorite number I believe, was thirteen.

I was fifteen when I fell in love with him.

I must pick a number? Well I don’t know – fifteen has always been an important number. My house is number fifteen. I have fifteen freckles on my nose. I have exactly fifteen stuffed animals on my shelf. I heard my mother and father fighting for fifteen nights straight before she left.

I was fifteen when I wished away my baby brother to the goblins.

When fighting towards the castle, I smacked fifteen goblins over there head. I spent fifteen minutes – I think – in a crystal ballroom, searching for a man who wasn’t truly a man. Fifteen minutes after my party with my friends, I realized that the empty feeling inside of me wasn't because I was already missing my friends.

It was because I was missing _him._

Fifteen days after I wished away Toby, I burned my white princess dress. Fifteen days after that, I chopped off my hair. That same day the students in my English class were assigned sonnets to interpret.

Mine of course, was Shakespeare’s number fifteen.

Fifteen times since that memorable night, I’d nearly wished myself away. My friends came when I called – or sometimes when I didn’t. They didn’t mention him – ever, and I never mentioned my feelings towards him. Fifteen times, I stopped myself from wishing.

I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it if nothing happened.

It’s been fifteen years since that fateful evening. I’m thirty – fifteen times two. Every anniversary so far I’ve nearly wished myself away. Each night I choke before the words are even out of my mouth.

I realize now that I don’t have to wish myself away – and that all along they’ve been waiting. They’re waiting for two words….which I’m going to say.

I’ve always had a fondness for the number two. It’s the number of second chances, after all.

“_I’m ready…”_


	4. Abandon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Four: _**Abandon**_

Was he so easily forgotten? Minutes after his destruction – she called them. Said she needed all of them. But did she mean him? No –he’d be there, pulled by the magic she now possessed.

Look– she dances, and hugs with her friends, even the goblins who hindered her. Does she call him? Hadn’t he confessed his love to her, the best he could? He offered her the world – and she turned it down, defeating him. Why did she leave him on this cold and lonely branch?

Jareth had never abandoned her over the years – why was she now abandoning him?


	5. Preserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Five: _**Preserve**_

Searching for the peanut-butter in the pantry, Sarah’s hand fell on a certain jar. Though she couldn’t see it, she knew what it was – whenever she least expected it, it seemed to creep back up on her.

Pulling it out, Sarah took a good look at it for the first time in years. It was an ordinary jar of peach preserves, yet for Sarah it symbolized more than that – it symbolized the memories she had tried to suppress. The memories – of a horrible, thrilling, fantastical night – like this jar didn’t want to be ignored, and invaded her life whenever they could.

The jar had been bought the day after her adventure and hadn’t been eaten since. Fruit preserves tended to last forever – yet eventually they’d show age.

How long was she to lock up her memories, such an important part of her life, like the peaches here? How long was she to avoid peaches or making wishes? Was she to avoid everything just because she was scared now?

Was it all because that for one split second she nearly took up the Goblin King’s offer? Was it guilt?

The jar taunted her – _take me! Eat me!_ She wasn’t Alice, but for once since then, Sarah ignored her irrational fears and opened the jar.


	6. Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Six: _**Perspective**_

He was cruel – he had stolen her brother.

_(only because she asked him to)_

He was merciless.

_(but he gave her a chance to win Toby back)_

He was mean to his subjects – he hat threatened Hoggle.

_(yet no one seemed to fear him except Hoggle – who was a scaredy-cat)_

He was vicious.

_(but she had insulted his Labyrinth after all)_

He threw her into the Bog of stench.

_(was he jealous of Hoggle?)_

He seduced her without her knowing what was going on.

_(she enjoyed every minute of it though)_

He was hard, and unfeeling.

_(he offered her, her dreams)_

He set traps on her any chance he got.

_(he had to defend himself somehow)_

He was the villain.

_(only because she wanted him to be)_

He disgusted her.

_(was that the strange feeling inside she got whenever she thought of him?)_

He was selfish.

_(he said that everything he had done, he had done for her)_

She was glad that she was through with his trickery.

_(she was glad that she got Toby back – but not much else)_

She never wanted to see him again.

_(he had asked her to just ‘fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave”)_

Sarah Williams hated Jareth, The Goblin King.

_(Sarah had unknowing fallen in love with Jareth.)_


	7. Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Seven: _**Hat**_

So how do you want me to say it? I was just sitting atop _his_ head, when the girl comes barging through. Except she wasn’t a girl anymore – she was a woman with curves and all that and it was all I could do to keep my eyes in my head, if you know what I mean.

But we all knew who she was – she was the King’s girl, or the girl who ate the peach and forgot everything, or the girl who kicked the King’s butt. She was hands off, though not eyes off, y’know?

So she’s searching around for a way to pick when her eyes fall on me, or rather _him._Her eyes lit up – nice green ones, they are – and she said joyously, “Oh I know you! You’re the Wiseman!”

“Wiseman?” I scoffed. “Who are you kidding?”

_He_ then woke up and _he_saw her. “Young woman – didn’t we already speak?” Ai! He was so stupid! How come he couldn’t notice? The King’s girl shook her head, “I’m afraid that was many years ago.” She sighed. “I made a mistake though and now I’m back running this Labyrinth again.”

“Oh? And what mistake was that?” asked _him._ Few will believe it, but _he’s_ such gossip monger.

She blushed prettily, before muttering something. _He’s_ deaf and all, but even I couldn’t hear it!

“What?” I crowed.

“Speak up!” ordered _him_. “We haven’t got all day.”

“Yes we do!” I disagreed. “It’s _she_ I’m guessing who doesn’t.”

“Right,” she said. “Though I believe I’m making good time.” She surveyed her surroundings again. “I think I know where I am!”  
“And so why are you here again, young woman?” _He _asked again.

The girl fiddled with something in her pocket – nice pants those were. Left nothing to the imagination – before saying, ”Well I guess it _was_ my fault and I _was _being insipid but it was an accident!” She paused, still fiddling, before continuing. “I was visiting with my friends you see; Hoggle, Ludo, and Didymus. We were just lounging about as I didn’t have work, when Hoggle mentions something about how he never understood why I had refused the King.” She rolled her eyes, “I didn’t understand but Didymus explained. He said that he was _in love_with me.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this!”

“Why not?” I squawked. “It’s in the book after all.”

The King’s girl seemed to realize that then but shook her pretty head again, “That was the story. It was different after all then what actually happened.” She sighed, “I then made a stupid, flippant comment about how I would rather have run the Labyrinth again then marry him.” She shrugged, “And that’s how I got here. I don’t think His Majesty is too happy with me…”

Of course he wasn’t! He’d been planning his marriage for years! It had been rather frightful when the King had lost…._he_ was even awake for that.

“Well young woman,” said _him_ importantly. “You have learned a very important lesson-“

“Don’t make fun of his majesty!” I piped in.

“Be Quiet!” growled _he_. _He_ then turned back towards the girl, “The lesson learned is that actions speak louder than words.”

“What?” cried the girl and me. That wasn’t right at all!

_He_ settled back to fall asleep yet again, “_That_ is the lesson learned.” The snoring began immediately.

I tsked and turned to the young girl as the box came out automatically. “Please leave a contribution in the little box.”

Flustered she said, “Oh well – I don’t have anything with me as I was just lying around.”

The glint from the edge of her pocket betrayed it though. “No’s you don’t!” I said. “What’s in your pocket?”

Her eyes lit up and she pulled it out, “Oh I forgot about this. Here-“ she reached out to drop the item in the box when _he _and I – _he_ must have waken then – yelled.

“No!”  
She jumped back startled – serves her right!

“That’s the king’s sign!” _He_ motioned. “You can’t use that as pay – as if it’s some petty trifle!”

“Where’d you get that?” I squawked. “You’re not telling everything.”

“Well, I didn’t think it mattered to much,” she said, biting her lip. “The Goblin King gave this to me right before I landed outside of the Labyrinth. It’s supposed to be if I forfeit my challenge against the Labyrinth, I have to put it on.”

There was much more to it than that – did she not know what it meant?

_He_ recovered from such idiocy first. “Young woman – then you can not just give it to us.” Surely not! We’d end up in the Bog! “You must either keep it or dispose of it – but here is not the place for it.”

“Oh, alright,” she said unsure. “If you say so.” She glanced at a clock that had appeared nearby. “Nice talking to you and all but I have to go – places to go, Kings to defeat, and all.” She started to head out before realizing she hadn’t left anything, “I’ll get Hoggle to get you something later on!” She called back before disappearing round the bend.

Nice girl she was. However, she was the King’s girl after all, and it wasn’t just him saying it. I saw her slipping the ring back into her pocket, even if _he_ was already asleep.


	8. Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Eight: _**Hill**_

She barely heard his words – the feel of his cool breath on her ear startled her so. She whipped around to see him gesturing towards a clock, speaking of how time ran short. She barely paid attention to what he said then either – she couldn’t help but admire his pale, lean form.

Why did the villain of her fairy-tale have to be so handsome? So appealing? Why was it that the feeling of his breath on her ear caused shivers down there?

Sarah barely registered it when he left, so lost in thought was she on that now lonely hill.


	9. Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

  
Author's notes:

_A/N: Just so you know this IS the sequel to Hat_, _and perhaps Sail._

* * *

Prompt Nine: _**Underground**_

The Underground is a place like no other. Those from there would shrug and say its home unless they’d left it. That small few would agree vivaciously. It’s a place where colors breathe and magic still exists. The unnatural occurs on a normal basis – an oxymoron in itself.

However, not many of the Aboveground ever got to visit this wonderful land. The ways between these two worlds were closed off long ago though a few paths still remained. To fall down a rabbit hole was one way or entering a portal left by someone from the Underground was another. Neither of these ways were the most common though – that way was to wish someone away to the Goblin King.

It used to be that hundreds of mortals would challenge the Goblin King’s Labyrinth annually, but over the years the numbers had dwindled. Several centuries went by before someone said _the words_, and that person was Sarah Williams.

A note should be taken, reader, on this young woman, who was really only on the brink of childhood at the time. Sarah Williams wasn’t just another mortal who came to the Underground – she was chosen specifically by the King.

Why? None knew, not even the King himself. Those who whispered couldn’t tell if it was for her innocent eyes, or her vivid imagination, or perhaps the similarity between her and the King. Not many wondered however on this part of Sarah Williams. What most wondered was how she beat the King.

Though several had traveled to the Underground, in order to challenge the Labyrinth, none had won the treacherous game. Sarah Williams, a slip of a girl, did not once but _twice._

That lucky small number of mortals who came to the Underground, left changed. Few of these stayed – but all who came changed. They all learned lessons, harsh ones, that changed who they were and they were never the same again.

For Sarah Williams – the King’s Champion as she was sometimes known – learned several of these lessons as she rescued her brother. She learned that life wasn’t fair, things weren’t always what they seemed, and to never, ever, mention ‘cake’ around his Majesty.

What most people wondered was if she had learned all this and more, why didn’t she know the King was in love with her?

Those who wondered then thought that was why she was to challenge the Labyrinth yet again. Sarah Williams had to learn this lesson – that the King always got what he wanted.

Less than ten could tell you what actually happened – rumors would still circle so we’ll leave the how and why Sarah came at that. Rumors will be rumors no matter if the truth is recorded.

But let us move forward to after Sarah reached the Castle beyond the Goblin City, for the second time. She had made her way through the city fair enough – it had been rather lucky that she had learned some of Ludo’s rock calls before being sent back. Once at the great doors of the castle, they opened at her lightest touch, not needing the weight of her and Ludo combined like before.

Sarah knew her time was soon to be up, so she ran through greatly decorated hallways, ignoring fantastic portraits and paintings, thrilling tapestries and life-like statues. Her feet finally led her to the forsaken throne-room. Thrilled, that she had found a place she recognized Sarah lunged towards the stairs that led to the hall of stairs when she noticed a hidden doorway at the opposite end of the room.

Despite the voice inside her mind that insistently urged her to go the way before, Sarah found herself moving door the slightly hidden doorway. A purple misty curtain hung before it. She pushed it gently aside and peered into the hidden room.

The room was smaller than her bathroom yet it was obviously well-cared for. It was a clean room, decorated tastefully with candles about and a large portrait on the wall.

The portrait was startling though. It was of young girl, fifteen at most, in plain mortal clothing. She stood with a determined look about her face as her hair whipped around her, a sort of dark aura.

It took less than a second for Sarah to realize it was of her when she challenged the Labyrinth years ago. Her thoughts raced as she stared at herself immortalized in canvas and dye. Who did this? Why? What was the point? Did he actually –

Before she could finish that last thought, Sarah’s eyes caught on the clock in the portrait’s background. It caused her thoughts to remain normality – not to think on the fact that she hadn’t seen _him_ throughout this journey, yet signs of him were everywhere – and she dashed out of the room and back up the staircase like last time.

And then she was there, in the room that resembled her Escher print. She took a deep breath and was about to step forward when _he_ stepped around a corner, stopping in front of her.

She ignored the look of pain in his eyes and looked instead pass him, where she knew she must jump to cancel this challenge.

The Goblin King opened his mouth to say something yet she took that moment to rush pass, pushing him aside, ignoring the heat of his body. She ran towards the edge and took a running leap off as the room collapsed around her.

Sarah’s body wasn’t expecting the fall, unlike last time, and she landed in a crouched position. Her mind sprung back more agilely taking in the King before her in the white outfit as before. He stood there, calm and regal on the surface yet she couldn’t ignore the look in his eyes of desolation.

She stood, and the words she knew so well slipped off of her tongue. She ordered back her freedom instead of the child, each word the truth as before until those final words.

He hadn’t made a single attempt to distract her during her declarations, yet she stopped of her own accord before she finished. Why hadn’t she noticed how thin the air was and how she could barely breathe except for shuddering gasps?

“Just fear me,” he said softly. “Love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.”

Why? Was the sole question. Why should she fear him? Why should she love him? Why should she do as he said? She was the one with power now – her words were what would decide. What right had he to ask her of her freedom?

The final words slipped out calmly and she turned away in order to not see the look on his face. She wasn’t surprised to find herself in her room once more – the Underground had an odd way of tricking you.

It was empty, unlike before – if she didn’t know better she’d say it had all been a dream. Yet she knew it wasn’t – the dirt on her clothes, and the memory of his eyes were still fresh.

Smiling slightly, Sarah reached into her pocket and slid on the ring that lay there. She vanished from the room, never to be seen there again.

The Underground is a magical, mythical place that grabs a hold of you. To be there in captivity is a pain worse than death – to be there in freedom and in love is the closest thing to paradise that there is.


	10. Bonus Chapter: Spork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Bonus Chapter by the Request of CoffeeKris: _**Spork**_

She shouldn’t have been surprised. Really, she shouldn’t have. After all, he had proven that he could do the impossible on several occasions. And yet she couldn’t help her jaw from dropping as he did it with as much ease and calm as he walked on water. This was in fact, incredibly easy and normal for him.

Resisting the urge to scream, ‘it’s not fair!’ Sarah grabbed the item from Jareth’s gloved hands and scowled. Examining it for residues of magic yet finding none she asked, “I don’t get it – how are you able to eat spaghetti with a spork?


	11. Pair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

  
Author's notes: _Hey folks, just a quick A/N - this is the prologue to Hat, in case you were wondering. I'll just scoot out now..._  


* * *

Prompt Ten: _**Pair**_

The two of them were a pair, even if she doubted it. Sure, Sarah came in flouncing about like she owned the place, saying the final words and rescued her brother and refused his offer. They were a pair – there was no getting around it.

Like, oh what was the phrase? Peanut butter and jelly, or green eggs and ham the two just _went_ together. Jareth and Sarah – Sarah and Jareth. It had a ring to it – because they were a _pair._

Yes, she defeated him and yes, she threw his loving words in his face but that was just a phase. Women go through phases all the time – she couldn’t _possibly_ really mean it. Knowing women – and Jareth liked to believe he knew the fairly well – Sarah would probably be wishing him back into her life minutes after she realized her brother was safe and sound in his crib.

So Jareth waited – not impatiently but definitely not quite patient either – for Sarah to call. He waited that evening – nothing. (she just wanted time to recover) He waited throughout the next day – nothing. (surely she must be doing all she can to hold back lust-filled thoughts) He waited all that week – nothing, tra la la. (He was starting to get angry…)

Soon the time he waited tallied up to months, and then years – so after Jareth had waited so long and he heard his name from Sarah’s lips he was ecstatic.

That is until she declared that she’d rather run his Labyrinth again then marry him. _Ecstatic_ was far from what Jareth was feeling – downright murderous was pretty close.

Damn those not-so-innocent eyes.


	12. Broadcast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Eleven: **_Broadcast_**

Mr. Robert Williams had a traditional routine after his dinner. He’d help his wife, Irene, clean up and they’d make idle chit-chat as he did the dishes and she put away what left-overs there were. There son Toby, would be off brushing his teeth and then they’d all sit down in the living room each to do there own respective projects. Toby would work on one of his model planes, or perhaps his home-work, while Irene had a book and Robert had his newspaper.

Tonight was to be different though – this evening, Robert’s daughter Sarah was to appear on television. Sarah had been on her own the great world for quite a few years, trying to achieve her dream of becoming an anchor-woman. Tonight after working her way through the TV station’s political system, she was going to get to work live.

The routine was different this evening – dinner wasn’t its usual leisurely time but a rushed meal. Clocks were constantly being peeked at, and the dishes were left dirty on the counter. Toby’s teeth were still filthy, and no chit-chat was made. The three rushed to there respective spots on the couch where a short tussle for the remote occurred. After Irene successfully got the remote, she clicked it to channel thirteen where Sarah’s show was just starting.

At twenty-five, Sarah looked calm and collected in an ivory suit and her hair pinned back. She had a healthy-look to her face, but a faint twinkle in her eyes that was implacable unless you knew Sarah very, very, well.

The show started, and Sarah began, “Welcome to the Channel Thirteen News – I’m your host this evening, Sarah Williams.” She took a deep breath and continued on, “Were any of you on I-94 today? You’re lucky you made it home – at three this afternoon-“

She stopped suddenly, her eyes looking to the side of where the camera probably was. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth in a perfect circle. Robert turned to Irene, and she shrugged. Perhaps it was stage-fright?

Sarah looked madly around her, before her eyes fell in that same spot again. “Um, if you’ll excuse me,” she said suddenly, getting up and exiting the camera’s view.

“What’s going on?” Toby asked.

“I don’t know,” said Robert. The camera suddenly changed its angle falling on something very surprising.

Sarah was back in the camera’s view, and she was scolding a man dressed in the oddest outfit Robert had ever seen. He assumed he was some wanna-be rock star, with a platinum mullet, and pants tighter than properly acceptable. He had a leather jacket which Sarah was grasping the lapels of as she said something they couldn’t hear.

The camera moved in on the couple, though they didn’t notice and kept on with there argument.

“I mean it!” Sarah said. “I told you not to come unless I’m at home!”  
“And do you really think you can order me about, Sarah?” The man said deviously. His voice could have been one of a rock star’s – Robert made a mental note to ground Sarah from dating.

Sarah set her chin determinedly, “Yes, if it means you’re on the couch tonight.”

Robert thought his eyes were going to pop out of there sockets. She did not just say that, did she?

The man raised an eye-brow, and shifted on his feet edgily. “I came bearing good news.”

“Unless it’s that world peace is going to be achieved soon, I don’t care Jareth!” She said, color rising in her cheeks. “This is my big break – this is my dream that I’ve been working to achieve –“

“Funny,” he drawled. “But I thought us was your dream.” Sarah opened her mouth, but Jareth – if that was his name – put a finger to her lips. “Now, will you let me explain?”  
She struggled for words before sighing and saying, “A minute Jareth – that’s all you’re getting.” Her voice grew shrill, “I’m missing my big break!”

Jareth sighed, and then continued, “What I’m trying to tell you precious thing,” Robert nearly had a coronary at this man calling his daughter that! “Is that I found the book.”

Robert had never seen Sarah’s face light up the way it did right then. Not when she came to say she got her dream job – not when she got Merlin – more like when he had come home months ago where Robert could swear he heard another voice coming from her bedroom. Of course no one could be found.

“You found it?” she asked hesitantly. “Really? This isn’t just some cruel joke for revenge after ten years, is it?”

The man’s hand found its way into Sarah’s hair. “Would I kid about this?” His voice became a whisper, and the camera zoomed in closer. “Our dreams can happen now.”

To Robert’s horror – the two kissed then. Oh, it wasn’t anything big a peck at most but on television when he, Irene, and Toby were watching?! The final thought reminded him and Robert turned towards his son.

“I think you should go and work on your planes now,” he said hoarsely.

“But why?” Toby whined. “It’s not everyday that Sarah gets embarrassed on television!”

Irene was still in a silent state of shock, so Robert was on his own in this situation. He might have pressed onward when sound came from the TV again.

“So we can be together then?” asked Sarah, breathlessly.

“Forever,” said Jareth firmly.

“It’s not long at all,” smiled Sarah. There was the sound of an off-screen cough – probably from how sappy the scene was, and the lovers finally realized they had been taped.

The look on there faces was Kodak worthy. Sarah was the first to recover, and muttered several words that made Robert blush. What had happened to his little girl?

After this, Sarah sighed before grabbing Jareth’s hand. “Dad? Irene? Toby? I know you’re out there watching this and thinking ‘what the hell?’ but really it’s not what you think.” The man gave a loud cough. “Erm, well – this is my dream and well-“ she stuttered on for a minute or so – Robert just stared in shock, only catching a word or too of ‘words’ or ‘fey’, before Sarah gave one of her mega-watt smiles.

“Well that explains it all then,” she said cheerily. She turned to someone off camera and said, “Marlene – I know you wanted the job so damn much so go on ahead. I wasn’t after Dean anyway.” She smirked, “I’ve got someone better.” Sarah turned back to the camera. “Bye guys! Not sure if I’ll se you again, but sacrifices and all! Bye!” She said all this cheerily, and was waving when the glitter surrounded her and the odd man. Robert had no idea what she was doing when the glitter left as Sarah and the Jareth fellow had disappeared as well.

Robert reached out and shut off the screen, in silence. It clicked, echoing, as the three just stared at the blank screen. Robert couldn’t say what was going on in Irene and Toby’s heads but he knew what thought was going on in his.

Once Sarah had come back, she was going to be grounded until her teeth had fallen out of her head.


	13. Gear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Twelve: _**Gear**_

“Sarah.”

She turned, crystal still in hand.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he pleaded.

“I think it does,” Sarah snapped. “We’ve both made it clear we have our differences. It’s led to this Jareth. I’m going to do what I want to, regardless of what you want.” She made to leave again, but he interjected.

“I could change…”

“We’ve been over this! You’re not willing to make the few sacrifices needed for this to work!” Sarah gestured at her bags.

“My heart weeps tears, Sarah,” he moaned. “Whenever you’re not around.”

“And yet you leave me alone with the goblins for hours upon hours every day!” She stamped her foot. “No, it’s final. I’m leaving Jareth.” Again, she started to leave but the Goblin King interrupted.

“Wait!” He cried out. She turned, a sour expression on her face. “Will you write me at the least?”

Infuriated, Sarah dropped her bags and crystal to the ground. She marched over to Jareth and slapped him across the face.

“God Jareth, you’ll live. You’re going to be fine – act like a man already!”

With that, Sarah picked up her crystal, and taking her camping gear with her. She left in a poof of glitter, leaving Jareth alone in his desolation.

He collapsed on his throne and sighed. He could find no consolation with the fact that Sarah would be back from her camping trip in only one week.


	14. Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

The girl tosses and turns on her bed. She’s asleep, yet not fully. It’s hard to sleep when you haven’t any dreams.

Shadows dance across the room, in malicious merriment. In the morning, the girl will be blamed for the spilled bags and messes downstairs.

A larger shadow scares off the rest, and the whispering then begins.

“_Come…come…come…come…”_

The girl clutches for the teddy bear that is no longer there. Her hands grasp at air, and so she buries beneath the blankets.

“_Come…come...come…come…”_

She hopes she’s dreaming, and that they aren’t infiltrating her room and that _he_ isn’t there. But she doesn’t dream anymore – she lost the ability in a bet not too long ago, and it all is very painfully real.

“_Come on…everything you could ever want…just say the words…come…”_

The girl pulls the pillow over her head, still hoping to be asleep, still hoping it’s a dream. She hopes the simple barrier will scare away the bogey man leering over her bed, but the whispering isn’t normal, is not physical, and is not human.

“_You know you want to dream again…just say your right words…come on…”_

The girl still tries to hide, though she’s been found long ago. It’s time to give up yet she’s too stubborn, always has been.

He leans down next to her ear and whispers, _“I’ve come for you.”_


	15. Envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Fourteen: _**Envy**_

He appeared back in his throne room, and summoned a crystal immediately before seating himself. He watched as Hoggle pulled Sarah up. Jareth was glad Hoggle had rescued her in time– a decapitated Sarah would not make for a good queen - but soon regretted it.

She kissed him! She kissed the crusty-faced dwarf! How could she do that to such a repulsive thing? If she was able to kiss _that_ why hadn’t she done the nicer thing and throw herself at himself when he came?

Jareth scowled and sent the two of them to the bog. The nerve of it!


	16. Process

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

  
Author's notes:

_A/N: By popular request - here's the prequel to _Broadcast _folks!_

* * *

Prompt Fifteen: _**Process**_

Jareth resisted the urge to bang his head against the bookshelf he had just searched through. It wasn’t kingly though. Instead, he grabbed one of the many goblins that followed him about and dropped him on the toe of his boot.

With impeccable timing, the boot soared up, kicking the goblin at the precise moment he landed. The goblin gripped his helmet, screaming ‘Geronimo!’ before smashing through glass window. A splash was heard several minutes later.

Jareth closed his eyes and pinched his nose. He didn’t see the rest of the goblins holding up signs that held numbers between one and ten. Nine was the most common of their numbers, though there were quite a few sixes as well. A couple of hurried nudges and whispers later, the nines ruled the numbers yet again.

Jareth missed it all as he’d seen it hundreds of times before. He sighed yet again before moving towards one of the chairs in the library. He reclined back exhaustingly, lost in thought,

The goblins recognized the pose and started to squabble and fight. It was after all how he looked when he was on his throne.

Jareth still didn’t notice. He tapped his hand on the back of the chair hoping to slive his dilemma.

Sarah had called on him a few years ago and their courtship had at last been started. It had been pleasant and sweet and tiring on both as neither could be in the other’s dimension for long without some troublesome results.

But at long last Sarah had agreed to marry him. Jareth should have been in the height of bliss save for one crucial detain – they couldn’t live together.

Well they _could_ but it would be quite sacrificial. Either Sarah would become a goblin (Jareth shuddered at this thought) or _he_ would lose his mage yet still live forever. Not a happy combination. So they were in the awkward state of being engaged until they found the book.

The book was to be said the origin of all magic. The process to turn Sarah into one of the Fey, was in the depths of it. Jareth even knew where in the book it was. If only he had memorized the spell instead of thinking ‘how odd’ before turning to the page on eternal stench.

The problem though, was finding the book. (The goblins at the notice of the hole in the chair made from Jareth’s tapping went to fetch a pillow. Pink and frilling, it was often used for such situations. No one was quite sure _why_ but the hideous thing was indestructible – especially to the Goblin King’s think-tapping. Jareth kept tapping away, noticing nothing as usual.)

Jareth had had hold of the book for several millennia. He’d used it to create the Labyrinth, the Bog, and his unique wardrobe. The thing was thought that Jareth hadn’t used it in the past few decades or so and had, loathe was he to admit it – lost it.

He hadn’t told Sarah this of course – he’d spun a thrilling tale of dangers untold and hardships unnumbered and a journey with an unknown length. Sarah, always glad to hear a good story, had soaked the whole thing up, surprising Jareth. He would have thought it utter hogwash. Odd, as Sarah was supposed to be a reporter of sort and be able to sniff up a good story…

But Jareth was quite thankful too.

Jareth torn apart the castle searching for the book. The throne room had been cleaned for the first time since its creation – the labyrinth had been swept through – the oubliettes shone on and aired. He’d looked nearly everywhere but the book was nowhere to be found.

One of the last places to look was the library, which he’d just finished search through by _hand_. Things hardly were where they were supposed to be so he’d left it for last. The book still hadn’t shown up.

He _knew_ it had to be somewhere in his kingdom. Yes, he’d lent it to his mother a few months after the first millennium he had it ,but she’d return it since then – he was a positive of that. Jareth had created a crystal nightmare right afterward for the rude messenger. Tights! As if!

So where could the blasted book be?

At this time the goblin that’d flown out the window, Hurdy, came running up the stairs. Soaking wet, yet still holding tight to his helmet he made his way to the other goblins who cheered at the sight of him. They crowded the sopping goblin asking about his trip. Jareth at this gave a slight glance at last. He sighed and had them all transported into the pond below. Seconds later cheers of “Thanks King!” were heard and the squabbling started again. Jareth pinched his nose again, and stood heading to his rooms.

He was _not_ going to search the Bog with his goblins or in his best clothes.


	17. Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

_A/N: By the special request of _Apocalyptic Scenes_ here is the sequel to 'Broadcast' and 'Process'._

* * *

Prompt Sixteen: _**Inevitable**_

How long was he supposed to hope for? He hoped for at least a few centuries into the marriage – not much more than that, but Jareth thought that a reasonable time at least. At least he’d be able to have marital bliss for a little bit.

Instead, a few weeks _after_ the wedding he’s facing his beautiful wife as she asks, “Are you telling me that you didn’t go to the Land of Perplexity to get the book?”

Jareth had always considered himself a brave man, and yet he gulps before nodding his head.

The look on Sarah’s face is unreadable. There is silence except for the munching of the goblins (for it’s breakfast time in the Labyrinth) until Sarah says, “Jareth?”

“Yes, Sarah love-of-my-life-who-I-would-do-anything-for?” Sugar coating never hurt anyone.

She leans forwards with a certain glint in her eyes. Definitely cruel. “I suggest you run Jareth. Run now and run fast.”

He isn’t prepared for that. “Sarah? Are you sure you’re feeling alright?...”

“You have ten seconds before I use that lovely spell for eunuchs I found in the boggy book on you Jareth.”

Jareth’s eyes grow wide. “You wouldn’t…” He says in horror.

Sarah’s eyes grow colder, “Ten – Nine – Eight…”

Jareth shoots up from his seat and _runs._ He should have thought better beforehand– it was inevitable after all she’d find out.

At that thought, Sarah screams, “ONE! I’M GOING TO KILL YOU JARETH!”

As Jareth switches to avian form and flees to the Aboveground, Sarah at his talons, he wonders if maybe it would have been better if Sarah had become a goblin.


	18. Except

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Seventeen: _**Except**_

She was perfectly content. Really she was – Sarah’s new friends had just gone home, she beaten the King, and now she was all set for Happily-ever-after.

Except…things felt out of place. Something was missing but Sarah couldn’t place what. Yes, Lancelot was in Toby’s bed but he was where things belonged now. Everything should be perfect.

Except…her room seemed to be too empty now. Funny, it had never felt like that before yet now it felt to big for just one person. A side effect of the party, perhaps?

Except…she’d felt this way during the party too. Well, it hadn’t been as noticalbe as it was now but Sarah had felt this during it before the scrabble game had started. After she’d not paid as much attention to it.

Except…she’d constantly been glancing out her window as if something or someone would come flying in. Sarah knew who rather than what that someone would be…but she couldn’t have been looking for _him_, could she? Why should she? He had been the enemy and she’d rightfully trounced him at his game. She had no feelings towards him aside from hate and a modicum of respect.

Except…there was the ballroom. She could still remember the way his gloved hands had felt on her hand and waist and the haunting melody still lingered in her ears…but she had no desire to see him whatsoever. Truly she didn’t.

Except…the words were forming on her lips, wishes for companionship and truth…especially to that of Sarah’s true self.


	19. Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Eighteen: _**Fly**_

Sarah sits on her bed, rereading a book when Jareth suddenly appears. She’s startled and so jumps back, banging her head against the wall. She groans, rubbing it and then glares at the Goblin King.

“You could at least let me know when you’re coming!”

“What’d the fun be in that?”

Sarah gives an exasperated sigh, before moving back to her book. Jareth is surprised at this action (usually she’ll give him a hug at the least) but seats himself beside Sarah on the bed.

“Come now Sarah. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

“Nope,” she says from behind her book. “Not at all.” A stern pause. “I would have been glad to see you yesterday.”

Jareth raises his eyes to the ceiling where pictures have been pasted into a sort of collage. “How many times Sarah can I apologize for that? I wasn’t able to leave the Underground due to the meeting between the head of Goblin Clans. There was no way to move it as it’s always the day after the Full moon.”

“Oh and I’m sure your powers of reordering time or moving the stars couldn’t help you with that.” She says sarcastically, turning a page of her book. “It was just fine for you to miss my birthday. My _eighteenth_ birthday.”

His attention is caught on the book – not the not-so-subtle hint, Sarah gave him.

“_Peter Pan_, Sarah?” He grabs the book, thumbing through it. “Haven’t you read this a million times before?”

She tries to get her book back, but he successfully evades her. Sarah gives a tiny growl, and launches onto him. They tumble off the bed, Sarah pinned beneath Jareth’s body in a terribly compromising situation. Jareth grins at the position, and keeps the book still out of Sarah’s reach.

She struggles a few moments more before settling back. Sarah scowls at him. “Give it back.”

His sharp teeth show. “I don’t think so, Sarah. Now why were you reading it yet again Sarah when you could be doing better things?”

“Like what?” she scoffs. “Let you molest me?”

Jareth’s eyes reveal what he thinks of _that_ statement. Sarah tries to ignore it, and slams her fist against the carpeting.

“It’s a classic Jareth. It’s a fantastical tale of growing up that involves magic, philosophy, and love. What reason do I have to not read it again?” Sarah asks sternly. Or at least that’s what she means to…instead Jareth’s lips are pressed against her forehead and Sarah is trying as hard as she can to focus on the fact that he technically isn’t doing _anything_. Yet, her heart is a flutter and she’s wondering why she is mad at him.

Damn King.

“Funny,” he murmurs against her head. “But _our_ tale seems to feature all of those things. Shouldn’t you be escaping to my world?”

Sarah thinks for a moment a good excuse for that. His head is now nuzzling her ear though and she’s loosing concentration quickly. Why _did_ she escape to the book of _Peter Pan_ when she had Jareth in love with her?

“Wendy learns how to fly,” she says suddenly, recalling a daydream from her childhood.

His head rises and their eyes meet. “You want to learn how to fly?” he asks in astonishment.

Sarah doesn’t understand his reaction. It shows on her face and he realizes.

“Of all the things Sarah…why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

She furrows a brow, “Well it’s harder than it seems getting used to the fact that you have a boy-friend who waits on your every hand and foot. I mean – who _does_ get that nowadays? I’m like-“

Jareth’s lips cover her own, and the statement is lost forever. It’s not one of their more passionate embraces, but is instead teasing as he pulls away before long at all.

She isn’t expecting for him to stand and pull her up as well so quickly. He pulls firmly, but gently on her arm until they’re at her window. A flick of his finger and it shoots up.

Jareth turns back to her, a sly grin on his face. “Come and fly away with me. Come with me Sarah to Neverland!” His eyes hold wicked promise of _what _that means.

Sarah tries to think of a good reason to resist but instead sighs shaking her head. She stretches out and grasps his hand. They set out and one last thought is still echoing in Sarah’s mind –

Jareth was just as cocky and sure of himself as Peter Pan – but the little boy had nothing on Jareth in the allure department.


	20. Bonus Chapter: Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Bonus Chapter by the Request of Jordy Trent: _**Lost**_

“Just stay here,” her mother told her. “See the area with all the lights up there?”

“Yeah,” said Sarah in the same quiet voice.

“Well I’m going to be up there – but there’s a rule Sarah.” Linda said, eyes bright. “You have to be quiet and not be seen.”

“Like hide and seek?”

Linda glanced at her watch. “Yep, like hide-and-seek except there’s no moving. Otherwise you won’t get to see me up where the lights are. Got it?” she flashed perfect white teeth at the six year old.

Sarah copied the gesture, except there was a wide gap where her teeth used to be. “Got it!”

Linda smiled again, and kissed her daughter’s head, before rushing off to the dressing room.

Sarah sits with her hands on her lap, and waits for her mother to go up on stage. There’s lots of people in line at the base though, and she can’t see her mother amongst them yet.

Her mother had explained that all the others had to go and then she. Sarah had asked why, but Linda wouldn’t say.

People have told Sarah that she was a good waiter, but she didn’t really think this was true. She was good at waiting quietly when she had things to think about or a book to color in, but now she had nothing. Well, she did have something to think about but her mother had told her not to leave the seat in the back of the theater and so Sarah sat still, ignoring the little whispering and hissing next to her.

Sarah wasn’t scared, but was rather curious at what could be making the sound. She checked again to see if her mother was in the long line below the chanting person, but her mother’s dark locks couldn’t be seen.

She squirmed in her seat, in order to get a better look at the row behind and next to her. In the dark of the theater, Sarah could see nothing though hear well. The cackling was growing – yet nothing could be seen.

It suddenly grew louder, filling Sarah’s ears. The click of what must be nails against the arm rests echoed, and the sheer giggles of the infiltrators haunted. Sarah winced and covered her ears, wondering why no one up front of the theater had noticed. The auditioning just went on…

The sounds became noisier and noisier, making its way past her covered ears, and infiltrating. Sarah wanted to cry – except she was too old for that – and tried to think what her mother would do.

The answer to that question didn’t come to mind – instead to what any of the story characters would do. Sarah was scared at this thought but knew it had to be done, even though her mother had told her not to move. Sarah set her shoulders, and jumped down from the chair.

Silence was there for a moment in the seats. It started up again, quicker than expected, and Sarah warily set off towards them.

She could still see nothing, even as the paths twisted and turned through the theater. The sounds continued, and Sarah thought she was on the right track but couldn’t be sure. Her hands trailed the walls beside her, but nothing was revealed by that aside from that she was going further and further into the theater – and that her last turn had brought her to a stair case going far below.

Sarah continued on, sitting and sliding down the stairs where the cackles were growing louder. She turn around and go back as she was already lost, and nor did she think she could be in danger doing this as she was too young to realize it.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the cackling abruptly stopped. Sarah furrowed a brow, cocking her head to the side. It was gone.

She sighed, and turned to crawl up the stairs (the light was dim, and she didn’t mind looking younger than she was) but tall boots stopped her.

Rising up from these boots, on the step above her, were pants amazingly tight, that the dark background of a cape behind off-sets. Sarah craned her neck up to see the face of this body. A sharp face – yet one that was calm, looked down at her.

They locked gazes, one crouched, the other towering, for several long moments. It was Sarah who looked away first, mumbling a quick _sorry_ before pushing over to the side of the stairwell.

Sarah expected the tall man, to brush past and continue on – she hoped he was going to take care of the noises, though he didn’t seem like the cleaning up sort – but he surprised her. The man stepped down, sitting on the step that her hands were resting on, and asked her, “Are you lost?”

Automatically, she shook her head.

He titled his head, staring before saying, “Really? A little girl like you shouldn’t be down here.” He paused. “Alone.”

“I’m not alone,” she said, hands rising to hips.

The man made a big show of looking around, before turning back, a playful grin on his face, “I see no one.”

Sarah shook her head, not realizing he was teasing her, “I couldn’t either. I heard the noises and came down.”

“Oh well then they must be goblins,” he said leaning back.

Her eyes grew wide. “Goblins?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “They’re quite noisy creatures, mischievous as well. I was looking for them as well.”

“You were?”

Even in the dark of the stairwell, she could see the flash of sharp, pointed teeth. “I was.”

“Where’d they go?” Sarah asked. “Or are they still here?” She peered out at the room the stairs had let to, but of course could see nothing.

The man chuckled. “They ran when they heard me coming.”

“But I didn’t hear you!” exclaimed Sarah in confusion.

‘Were you listening for me?”

Sarah shook her head. A thought arose. “Are they scared of you then? I hide too, when I hear Mommy and Daddy fight…” Sarah left the rest of that thought unsaid.

His brow puckered, but he sighed and shook his head. “They’re not really frightened, I think. They’re wary – that’s all.”

“Why?” she questioned.

“Haven’t you ever heard of the Goblin King?” A great pause.

Sarah squirmed up her face; racking her brain for the name in any of the fairy tales and stories she’d been told. She thought and thought, yet she couldn’t remember the name from anything. Sighing, she shook her head.

Blond locks glowed as he shook his head as well. “Not many know of me any more…”

Her eyes lit up. “You’re the Goblin King?”

He gave a small smile and then stood. “You’re being looked for, Sarah.” She conveniently forgot she never told him her name as he stretched out a hand to her. “Come, I’ll take you to your mother.”

Sarah pouted slightly – he still hadn’t answered her question – but took the outstretched hand.

She noticed that the man was good at walking. He adjusted his stride so that Sarah’s tiny legs could keep up, and his gloved hand held tightly on to hers – but not crushingly. He led the way through the hallways easily. Sarah wondered if he came to this theater often, and if so, why.

All too soon, they were at the end of the wings, and back to the amphitheater where the cries of, “Sarah!” could be heard.

To Sarah’s delighted surprise, the man didn’t just say goodbye, or even stride off without another word. Instead he went down on one knee, and brushed her hand that he was still holding against his lips. Sarah giggled, before clumsily curtsying back at him.

The man grinned and with a flourish, pulled a book seemingly out of thin air. He handed it to the wide-eyed girl, before standing.

“It’s a gift,” he said. “Will you take care of it?”

Still shocked at this turn of events, Sarah nodded seriously.

“Good girl,” he said fondly – almost as if he didn’t want to go. The scampering started up though again, and both turned towards the direction of the sound. Nothing could be seen.

The man smiled softly at Sarah. “I must go now. Try not to get lost anymore.”

Before Sarah could protest that _no,_ she hadn’t gotten lost, the man turned and began to walk away. She watched him head down the long hallway and nearly turn down the next corridor before she recalled the use of her tongue.

“Wait!” she cried. He turned, an eyebrow raised.

“Thank you – thank you, Your Highness.”

The Goblin King gave her a charming grin, before vanishing out of sight.

Sarah sighed before heading toward the sound of her mother’s voice. Clutching the book tightly, she smiled. She’d definitely have a new story to tell Merlin when she got home…


	21. Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Nineteen: _**Side**_

It was one of those few moments of absolute peace between the two. Neither was nagging the other – both were at peace, arms tightly wound. Neither were awake enough to remember the two were enemies – and after their actions quite a few things could’ve been raised. Neither of them were anything but content – a delightful change for both, as they fought their feelings and desires – the truths in their hearts that their minds couldn’t accept. Spooning one another, lying on their sides, Sarah and the Goblin King – sworn enemies - were at peace with one another for once.

Hopefully it’d last.


	22. Unbelievable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

  
Author's notes:

_A/N: If you're easily squicked, you may want to skim some of this chapter. Mentions of weak stomachs occur..._

* * *

Prompt Twenty: _**Unbelievable**_

Irene had thought the day would start out normally enough – deal with Toby’s early wake-ups, rouse Sarah out of bed twenty times, and then make breakfast for them all. However things weren’t going as planned…

Toby had slept in for once – at four he really did have business getting up at seven in the morning, the way he usually did. Irene had smiled, closing the door firmly – not even noticing the small smile on neither the little boy’s lips nor the crystal twinkling in his palm.

Sarah’s door was shut – common enough – but it was _locked_ as well. Very uncommon for Sarah – Irene’s step-daughter did seem to enjoy her privacy but she was pretty open (unlike how she used to be) and informed her parents about most things.

It wasn’t really that much of a problem – the key was over the doorsill, and Irene fished it out before calling in, “Sarah? Honey? You in there?”

Nothing.

Irene tried again. “Sarah, is something wrong? You have to get up now or you’ll miss the bus – did you lock yourself in accidentally?”

Again nothing. Irene frowned rapping on the door. “Sarah, unlock this door this instant!”

At last there was noise – the distinct sound of groans. Irene took this as a good sign, and moved to start breakfast when she heard something horrible:

It was the sound of a male’s voice, in a hushed quite whisper.

She froze, before regaining her bearings, and began to work the key in the lock. Sarah’s voice was coming out and the distinct of “Oh Shit!” could be heard as well.

Irene heard the catch of the barrel in the lock, and pushed the door open – fearing what she may see, _oh please let’s hope they used-_ and wasn’t that surprised.

There on Sarah’s bed was a man – a very handsome man at that, and with quite an appraisable chest viewable due to his lack of shirt. Sarah was curled up next to the man, and her face was full of horror.

“Irene –” she began. “It’s really not what you think-”

“Now really Sarah,” interrupted Irene. “Don’t you dare try to lie your way out of this situation…”

“No honestly!” she blubbered. “I have an explanation!”

Irene checked her watch – and snuck a glance at the man (much older than Sarah – at least she had good taste). He was still sitting expressionless. “Five minutes Sarah. That’s all I’m giving you and you better make it believable…”

Her step-daughter nodded urgently. “It is the truth. Honest to God-“

“Don’t swear.” Irene reprimanded. The man smirked slightly.

“-And Jareth’ll prove it!” The smirk left. A scowl appeared. “It’s like this…”

* * *

Sarah wasn’t in the best of moods to begin with – though she enjoyed babysitting young Toby ever since _that_ night, she really had hoped to not to this Saturday. She’d babysat the night before, she really had a paper to write for her history course, and she _really_ didn’t want to eat her parent’s left-overs from the night before. It was some sort of mushroom fettuccini – and Sarah had been allergic to mushrooms for years but did Irene remember? Nope!

So after the dinner of Sarah mainly munching on salad and Toby smearing his mushrooms and pasta everywhere _but_ his mouth, she was annoyed. She was hungry, she was tired, she had work to do, and so she really didn’t need the next item on her ‘Craptastic life of Sarah William’s’ list.

Toby had apparently gotten some of those mushrooms _in_ his mouth. But guessing by the pile of hunks on the floor of his room, they hadn’t stayed in for long. _Damn,_ Sarah thought. _Uncle Alf is allergic to mushrooms too and he’s Dad’s brother…_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the curly headed boy heaving again. All over the carpet. Sarah groaned, before scooping up the filthy boy and running him over to the bathroom. Unfortunately he was still sick, and it got _everywhere_ – including the new carpeting, the sink, the edge of the toilet, Sarah’s clothing, and of course the tile floor. Not surprisingly little of the mushroom fettuccini made it into the toilet – especially after Sarah slipped and fell _splat!_ into a huge mess of it.

Sarah groaned, and fought the urge to be sick herself. Her brother’s poor innocent face looked up to hers, smeared with the gunk.

“Sarah?”

“Yes, Toby?”

“I think I done-” His face suddenly turned green, and Sarah pushed him towards the toilet, barely getting the lid up in time. She sighed as the water splashed. _Oh the joys of being fungi-intolerant…_

“Never mind,” said the tyke feebly when he was done. “Now done Sarah.”

She raised a brow. “Really?”

He nodded. “Can I go to bed now?”

Poor kid…he never went to sleep unless forced to or at the very least, getting a story from Sarah.

“Not yet kiddo,” Sarah sighed. “Sorry ‘bout that. Gotta clean everything up and you need a shower.” She leaned back; her hands landing in another pile of the muck. “Me too.” Sarah nearly groaned again at the thought of cleaning it all up. It would be torture getting the bile out of the rug…

Maybe it was because she was stressed – maybe because she hadn’t really eaten anything – maybe it was because she was covered in vomit – but Sarah lost control in that moment, and sighing she muttered, “Y’know – I wish I didn’t have to deal with this huge mess right now.”

The second it left her mouth she wanted to slap herself. Her hand flew up to her mouth but it was stopped in time by the memory of what it was covered in. But what was more memorable was The Goblin King appearing in a burst of glitter in the bathroom.

But the thing as – the bathroom was tiny, barely big enough for a shower, toilet, and sink, and was already strewn with Sarah, Toby and the latter’s nasty, slippery dinner. Jareth’s what should have been dignified entrance didn’t work out so well.

For one thing, he didn’t plan his landing well and ended up on the edge of the tub/shower. It was clean thankfully, but when you’re not expecting to be standing on only a few inches of ground when you didn’t expect it _will_ throw your balance off. Absolutely positively. No question about it – even for someone who was part avian like Jareth.

Instead of looking devilishly handsome, he was looking completely uncoordinated as his balance was compromised and he began to wobble. He reached madly for something to hold safely onto for anchorage, and grabbed the shower curtain. Sarah felt an inch of remorse for the curtain rod – it was from Wal-Mart and its days were already numbered. The curtain went down, with Jareth wrapped semi in it. He twisted though as he went down – heading towards where the Williams siblings were crouched.

Toby had the good sense to dash for it, but Sarah was still in thought over the poor curtain rod – and thus had a not-so-light Goblin King land on her.

Compromising positions aside – he was way too heavy!

There was a horrible silence between the two before the male got himself together to say, “Well that wasn’t what I planned…”

“I should hope not,” she said coolly. “Could you get off? As much as I know you’ve probably fantasized about being in this position – _I’m_ in horrible discomfort, and lying in a pool of vomit.”

His face twisted up quite unpleasantly, but he did as she bade. However he also became victim to the slippery floor (yet again) and ended up shirt down on the stinky floor.

Both Williams giggled. “I thought you said he was graceful and walked like a panther?”

“I was wrong.” More giggles.

The chunk covered King scowled at them. “It’s not funny.”

“It is!” nodded Toby.

Jareth glared distastefully at the bile, and then at the siblings. “What did you call me for in the first place?”

“Hehe – don’t you know?” asked Sarah nervously. He really was looking like he was about to toss someone into the Bog.

He looked caught now instead. “I’ve been waiting three years for you to call Sarah – excuse me if I didn’t even hear what you said after ‘I wish-’.”

She gulped. Damn, that meant that he had meant the words in the Escher room after all…

“So why am I here? I have the oddest feeling it isn’t for you to be wishing _him_ away again.”

Toby had been told the story repeatedly and had already forgiven Sarah several times over. Even still, he fidgeted.

Sarah barely mumbled out her pitiful wish. Fortunately (probably unfortunately) the Goblin King heard.

“_WHAT?!”_ He slammed his hands into the muck. “Three years Sarah. I offer you the world on a silver platter, my love, myself as your _slave_, and you call now for, for, for _this?_”

“Erm, yes?”

Jareth emitted a large, monstrous, inhuman sound. The house shook – the windows vibrated in their panes. The vomit shifted on the floor – Toby slipped again, and the last bits of plaster concerning the shower curtain fell. The pole landed with an almighty crash which was masked by Jareth.

Sarah wincing, tucked this bit of Jareth’s behavior under the file in her brain that was labeled ‘Reasons Why It Was A Good Idea To Not Marry Jareth’.

He shot her a look harsher than the ‘throw-you-in-the-bog’ one. It was more like ‘give-me-one-reason-to-not-drag-you-Underground-for-Eternity-where-I’ll-lock-you-in-an-oubliette-until-you-give-in’ look.

Sarah didn’t like that one very much at all. “I guess that means you’re not helping then…”

Taken aback, the blond man (being? Creature? God?) blurted, “I never said that…” Looking at his hands again he added. “Perhaps I should have…”

Sarah didn’t notice, as she at least didn’t have to do this all on her own anymore and jumped up, pulling the two males to their feet with her grubby fingers. “Well come on! We’re all going to need showers – the floor has to be cleaned, and we’re going to have to attempt re-hanging the shower curtain.” Accidentally she breathed through her nose. “And I need a can of Lysol _now_!”

Not much later, all the things on Sarah’s list had been completed except for the fact that all of their clothes were in the washing machine still. (She’d forgotten to turn it on until after the shower…too much on her mind. Especially a certain Goblin King who didn’t seem to have a proper affliction concerning Iron bathroom locks…)

Toast was made, and the trio was sitting on the floor of Sarah’s room munching away. Or rather – Sarah and Toby were. Jareth was instead poking around the room, as he refused to eat such ‘commoner’s food’. The light of the Sarah’s desk lamp reflected much too nicely off of his bare back…

Jareth had also refused to wear one of Mr. Williams’s shirts as his clothes were being washed. He had not opted for a shower – instead using one of his crystals for removing the gunk from his self. His pants (thankfully) had been clean due to being wrapped in the shower curtain…but he was being way too distracting strutting around in only those WAY too tight pants. At least he’d cleaned the whole place while Sarah and Toby had changed and cleaned themselves off in the other bathroom.

“More like tights anyway,” mumbled Sarah into her toast unthinkingly.

“What’d you say, Sarah?” piped up Toby like only a little annoying toddler could.

She noticed the Goblin King watching from the corner of his eye. “Nothing,” she said in a false sweet voice. “Let’s get you to bed now, okay?”

The kid tried to protest, yet his work was undone by the yawn that crept into his monologue.

“You were just saying you wanted to go to bed, Toby,” teased Sarah. She stood. “Come on-”

Toby got up as well, and Sarah scooped him up though he fidgeted. Too proud for his own good….just like herself.

Sarah didn’t dump her brother on the bed as she usually did, and went through the usual tickle fight before settling in with a fantastical story. She tucked him in gently, making sure he was alright, and telling him that if he was sick either aim for the bucket beside his bed or running for the bathroom.

“Got it?” she asked, still worried.

“Got it,” he murmured. Despite his earlier protests he was falling asleep before her. Sarah ruffled his hair, before leaning over and kissing his forehead. He wasn’t warm anymore at the very least. “G’night, Sarah.”

“Night kiddo.” She stood from where she knelt and nearly bumped into the Goblin King. Sarah hadn’t even noticed that he had followed her and her brother into the latter’s room. He brushed past her, crouching down into the spot she had just vacated.

Sarah couldn’t quite see what he was doing – partially because he was blocking her view and partially because his back was way too distracting. She bit her lip, hands on hips as he stood. The glint of a crystal was obviously clutched in Toby’s grasp. He had a sweet smile on his face, and already his breath had slowed to that of a dreamer’s.

Jareth brushed past her again, beckoning to her to follow. Bristling, Sarah followed yet again, shutting the light behind and making sure the door wasn’t shut. The barebacked king made his way to her room yet again (she tried not to think of any rude puns or insinuations), and Sarah followed, slamming the door behind her. Hands planted themselves on her hips and she glared at Jareth who had perched himself on her desk chair.

“What did you do?” she accused.

He sighed, pulling a leather boot up onto his knee. “You always are suspecting, aren’t you?”

Sarah snorted, not caring how inappropriate such a gesture was in this company. “Look who’s talking. I’m just making sure you didn’t do anything to Toby.”

He slammed his hand onto his knee. “Damnit, Sarah, I gave him a crystal give him some deep, pleasant dreams.”

She was slightly flustered that he proved her wrong – yet again. _Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you._ Her arms crossed over her chest, and she flounced over to her bed. He turned his head, watching her every move. It was quite uncomfortable. Both waited for the other to say something.

At last Jareth spoke, glancing around the room again. “You’ve changed things.”

Sarah had – anything reminiscent of the Labyrinth had been put into boxes in the attic. “I have.” A pause. “How’d you know?”

A crystal appeared in his hand, and it spun. It glittered, taunting her. “One finds that they have large amounts of spare time when they eternity.”

“So becoming a Peeping Tom turned into a hobby then?”

The crystal winked out of existence. “That’s not how I’d put it…”

“Even though it’s the absolute truth?”

Jareth seemed about to retort when he noticed Sarah was barely containing a grin. He frowned slightly, and Sarah let it loose, shaking her head a bit. “Some days I just wonder if it all really happened. At times it seems like a really odd dream – but then my friends show, and now there’s you and then I know it's the truth.” She paused. “I doubt anyone would ever believe me if I told them what happened. Probably be locked in the loony bin.”

“But would you actually tell anyone?” Jareth asked, leaning forward.

Sarah frowned a little, resting her head onto her palms. “No,” she said simply.

He nodded. “That’s what I expected.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Sarah realized then how close the two were to each other – how the slope of his nose was right there before her, and the lips below it…

Sarah pulled her eyes away, leaning back and away. She heard him sigh wearily. She turned to see his eyes fell on the clock sitting on the nightstand. It read a number impossibly late – though Sarah’s parents weren’t due home for another few hours at the very least.

He stood. “I best be going.” Jareth made to leave, and Sarah’s heart got caught in her throat.

“Go?” she asked, blankly.

“I presume there’s no other reason you want me here?” Jareth’s words stung. But his words always stung and were painfully true. She hadn’t even called him – it was an accidentally wish, though his help was appreciated when it came. And yet…Sarah found herself not hating his company as she thought she might.

“Well...your shirt is still in the washing machine.” She didn’t look directly at him, yet she knew he got the slight glance she gave from under her eyelashes. He paused in his walking.

“I have several…”

“But it’d be a waste of time wouldn’t it?” She pressed. A corner of his mouth twitched and she added. “I mean for all those who worked on the shirt and did everything to make it…”

Jareth understood. “After everything they did…”

“-It’d just be cruel to leave it here wouldn’t it?”

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I’m known for being cruel at times-”

“Unfortunately, I’ve been called that as well.” Their gaze met firmly. It was all Sarah could do to hold back her hopeful smile.

“But,” he stressed. “But I don’t think I could afford earning the title over the shirt.”

“I should hope not,” she said, nodding. “You might as well just wait here.”

One last thing to be added – for the slight smile was fading from his lips.

“I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Jareth’s lips twitched. Once. Twice. Nearly spasming the entire mouth before being pressed thin. “It would be appreciated…”

Sarah held her breath.

“…More so than you might think.”

Sarah’s head tilted, and she slightly smiled. “I think that you underestimate me, Your Highness.”

It was clearly all he could do not to grin. Sarah was fighting the urge herself. But Jareth spoke, “Well I think I’ll stay then – until the shirt is done of course.”

“Of course,” she said in as serious a voice as she could muster.

It was too much then and the onetime heroine and villain broke into hearty laughter. 

* * *

“…And so we talked a bit but we fell asleep eventually.” Sarah finished. Jareth had wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and glancing nervously around the room.

Irene just stared, with her hands on her hips. “Do you really think I’ll believe that Sarah?”

Sarah gaped. “See Jareth? I was right; no one would believe the whole thing-”

“Oh, I believe that.” Irene rolled her eyes. Sarah’s jaw dropped further. Jareth’s eyebrows rose.

“But-how?”

“I’ve listened to your ranting of that silly book of yours to know who _he_ is. Besides it explains Toby and yours behavior.” Irene said calmly. “Your whispering has been going on for way too long – and it was I who had to clean up all the glitter in my bedroom a few years ago. I’ve just not said anything.”

Sarah was still gaping, so Jareth spoke. “Then, excuse me, what do you not believe?”

“The fact the two of you did nothing but talk.” The two both started to protest, but Irene held up her hands. “Look, its fine. Sarah’s eighteen and able to make her own decisions and I assume _you_,” she narrowed her eyes at the king. “Are at least as old as you look.

“I just want to make sure you guys took the necessary precautions.”

Sarah spluttered, turning a tomato red, and even Jareth’s color was off. Sarah at last managed to get out. “Irene – we didn’t even so much as-”

“Did you?” Irene pressed.

“We didn’t do anything!” Sarah burst.

Irene shook here head. She headed towards the door, pausing before leaving. “I hoped you could be trusted to make the right decisions, Sarah. There’s nothing wrong giving into desires and-“

“Irene!”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Irene said firmly. Her voice then grew sharp. “However, I expect you to use the necessary precautions. Do you understand, Sarah?” A pause. “Both of you?”

Both faces were of a strange hue, and both nodded in mute disbelief at this turn of events. Irene was satisfied, and made to leave again, before stopping. “Oh, and Jareth, you better find the door – or window, I suppose, - before my husband is up.” Irene left, in order to set up breakfast mind still reeling.

However she still heard as she was closing the door, the sound of their voices.

“I think that was the most mortifying situation in my life.”

“For you, Sarah? What about myself? I’ve never been reduced to such since before I ascended the throne.”

“Bloody unbelievable.”


	23. Hazard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Twenty-one: _**Hazard**_

He leaned over hard, his face harsh in the dim light – but entrancing at the same time. _“And you Sarah – how’re you enjoying my Labyrinth?”_

It took Sarah a moment to steady her thoughts – a line echoed in her head of certain powers and unknown love – and she was brought back to here and now. This evil, cruel, _man_ had stolen her brother. She wasn’t going to show him she nearly gave up before the doors of Alph and Ralph. She wasn’t going to show that she was regretting his initial offer.

Sarah set her chin. “It’s a piece of cake.” Her voice came out perfectly. Firm, a contrast to her quaking knees and hands.

“Oh really?” he asked, almost playfully. “Well then how about upping the stakes?” A clock appeared on the wall opposite. Sarah watched in dismay as her foolish words chased the hands forwards, faster than normal.

“That’s not fair!” she cried.

The King turned back. “You say that so often – I wonder what your basis for comparison is.” Sarah would have responded with a sharp retort, but he continued. “The Labyrinth’s a piece of cake?” he mused. “Let’s see how you deal with this little slice.”

His hands moved downwards (horribly close to a distracting area) and a crystal appeared between them. It spun once amongst his fingers, before he threw it harshly back down the tunnel. A glint of light appeared off a metal, slicing madness. Sarah’s jaw dropped. She barely heard Hoggle’s wail, as they started to run, away from the hazard.

_Maybe_, she thought sprinting and helping Hoggle up,_ it’d be a good idea to sacrifice one’s pride and shut up._


	24. Growth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

  
Author's notes:

_A/N: This was inspired by Shel Silverstein’s ‘The Giving Tree’. I claim no ownership to that as well._

* * *

Prompt Twenty-Two: _**Growth**_

The tree had been there as long as Jareth could remember. His mother had told him it had been planted the day he had been born, and had been growing ever since. Jareth found it odd that no one had named the tree – like he had been named, and also given the titled of ‘Goblin Prince’ but it was just the tree, or sometimes known as ‘The Peach Tree’.

The tree was special like Jareth was – or so everyone had told him. Jareth was special because he was of royal blood and the first male to be born in the bloodline for several centuries. The tree was special sort of like that as well – it would only bear fruit once in its life, and only one bounty would be grown. Jareth didn’t really pay attention to that though, and the tree didn’t pay attention to that about Jareth either. The prince was content to just sit under the shade of its always green branches, and the tree was content to be needed by Jareth.

The tree grew at a wonderful speed – just a bit ahead of Jareth, as the gardener told him. Though Jareth grew from a baby to a toddler, and then to a child who’s arms were strong enough to pull, and move himself. The tree grew just over his head, and so she challenged Jareth – he was never one to back down from one, even then. He reached up, and grabbed the firm braches (that secretly were holding his fingers as well) and he pulled himself up, and climbed. The tree would grow a bit more every day, as would Jareth, but the latter was always chasing the former, eager to catch up. ()

The tree was always there – a relief for Jareth in his life. Everyone was constantly coming and going. Governesses changed too quickly to form an attachment. Siblings came and left at an alarming pace (Jareth could perhaps name nine out of the hundred there supposedly were. Maybe remember the faces of eleven.) And as Jareth was the youngest (and only male), he was the only child in the palace longer than temporarily. As all the others left and came (but mostly left), Jareth counted on the tree to be the constant an anchor, and just _there._ It was enough.

The tree knew how to comfort, in a wordless, wonderful way. The Goblin Queen and King were not the type to comfort, or even reassure. When the lessons became too much – Or when Jareth needed to escape from the Courtly chaos – Or when he had been pranked by the goblins and it couldn’t be proven – Or when his mother had died, leaving the castle in darkness, the tree was always there. None but Jareth knew of a certain place up high in the branches, where the leaves came in, wrapped around curling tight, and oh so very careful not to scratch. There Jareth could cry, no matter how old he was, or what it was, or how much his pride would have fought otherwise. The tree was his surrogate mother – when she was alive or not.

The tree was kind – something Jareth wasn’t always. He knew he wasn’t suited to be King, and on the morning of the coronation he came to her. He ranted and raved and the tree had never seen him in such uproar. Jareth paced, and growled – moped and bewailed. (How could he do this? He was barely of age?) And at one point fell to his knees, practically sobbing. The tree watched and was sweet; reaching out to fondle his already mussed hair (he had the habit of running his hand through it). Jareth barely noticed, he was in such distress and so the tree just watched until an idea came to her. Firmly (but gently) one of her wooden arms tweaked his chin, pulling his head towards her. Jareth stopped mid-rant. The tree (silently as she always was) weaved from her own hair and skin a crown. Simple yet naturally powerful she dropped it towards him. Though she had no visible eyes, she could see the young man understood what she meant. (She meant that no matter what, _she_ believed in him, no matter if he did or not.) The tree had been proud that day.

The tree was a wonderful confidante – and Jareth was always eager to speak to someone. Ever since he first could make sounds, he went to the tree filling her in on things, telling of what he was learning, and the court gossip (the tree would stifle a chuckle at what the boy heard and didn’t understand). But Jareth also told of his secrets, his fears, his distaste for carrot cake his latest governess always ate, and of the few times he fell in love. It was the tree who he went to and sang to, when he first saw Sarah (while patrolling the Aboveground) and to the tree who he laid out his plans to seduce her Underground.

The tree was a romantic at a heart – and so when Jareth’s plans started to fail, and Sarah’s progress was too fast for comfort, the tree was the one who found the solution. Jareth had taken a break from the goblins and babe for once (for some reason he wouldn’t bring the latter towards her, which was a shame as she loved the young), and had begun pacing (nearly reminiscent of the coronation day so long ago). Her call to his attention was obviously a shock to Jareth. But when she pushed the offering towards him further, his protests slowed. He took the peach and looked at it reverently. The tree might have wept if she could have shed tears.

The tree wasn’t immortal – but Jareth was. The tree would have like to see him recover from his horrible refusal – to see him perhaps win back the heart of his love – to see his children – to see him leave his tower at least before she died from lack of clean air and rain. But Jareth was master and King of all – the weather itself was controlled by his actions. When all he did was rage and not confide in anyone, bottling his thoughts and emotions inside of himself, the world was going to take its toll.

The tree had always loved the boy. She hoped even in his dejection he knew that – that she always had, even would, after everything he’d done.


	25. Until

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

  
Author's notes: _By special request - here is 'Hazard' in Jareth's mind..._  


* * *

Prompt Twenty-Three: _**Until**_

It was truly, all he could do not to whisk her away right then and there. Really, did she have no idea how she looked there so tempting and yet defiant?

“_It’s a piece of cake!”_

Until she said that. Yes, she was alluring in simple defiance (something he had never seen before), but that was a poor choice of words. He nearly admonished her, but an idea came to mind, one that was much better and would benefit them both…_eventually._

Keeping away certain thoughts involving minimal clothing, Jareth spoke.

“_Oh really? Well, then how about upping the stakes?”_


	26. Thick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Twenty-Four: _**Thick**_

“I don’t get it Sarah. Why won’t you let me set you up on a date?”

Sarah’s head shot up from behind the book she was reading. When she saw who it was she nearly buried herself back into her reading again, save for the manners that had been drilled into her head since Irene had moved in to the Williams household.

The thing about Marlene was that she was too…perky. She had this annoying habit of showing up, without introductions, and jumping into a conversation. She wasn’t that bright either, so it was mostly mindless blabber. But worst of all was that she had no idea how annoying Sarah found her – and considered Sarah one of her best friends. Marlene was just too nice for someone who was that insipid.

Most days Sarah wished to strangle the blonde.

“Because I’m not interested,” said Sarah in as calm a voice as possible. “I’m not really the dating type.”

“But _everyone _dates,” squealed Marlene, plopping herself on the chair across from Sarah’s bed.

Sighing, Sarah said, “Not me.”

“Well, we’ll just fix that then,” bounced Marlene. She was very bouncy – another thing Sarah found annoying. She preferred things to stay put and stable. She’d had bad luck with bouncing things…such as Fireys.

“I know lots of guys who’d date you,” blabbered Marlene. She counted off on her perfectly manicured nails. “There’s John from the Varsity team, and there’s Murray from Drama, and that awfully cute Derek from Trig-”

“Really, Marlene,” said Sarah in as patient a voice as she could muster. Which wasn’t very patient at all, but the blonde didn’t notice. “I’m not interested in dating any of them.”

Marlene didn’t notice the hint either. “Oh, but there’s other guys like George-“

“Marlene,” Sarah interrupted. “I just don’t want to date any guys.”

Sarah could see the cogs in Marlene’s brain whirring. “O-o-oh,” she said, mouth wide and stressing the sound so it sounded like three syllables. “So you swing _that_ way then?”

Sarah resisted the so tempting urge to lean over and bash Marlene’s head into the wall. Instead, she gripped her book more tightly and said, “No, Marlene. It’s not like that.”

A perfectly waxed eyebrow furrowed. “But, you said you’re-”

Slamming her hands on the bed, Sarah growled, “I’m attracted to males, Marlene! I just don’t _like_ any of them.”

“Oh,” said Marlene faintly. Sarah could see the cogs about to go again. Her face then lit up. “So how about I set you up with a guy?”

“Because I don’t like any of them!” stressed Sarah.

“Well, you might if you went out with one of them…”

“Trust me, Marlene. I wouldn’t.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “But-but-but _why_?”

That was a good question, Sarah reasoned. Why shouldn’t she just go on one of Marlene’s blind dates? (Or not so blind) Was there any reason aside from Sarah hating Marlene’s presence?

Yes, was the answer, and the reason came shortly after.

“Because none of them are my type,” said Sarah honestly.

“Ooh! What’s your type then?” asked Marlene eagerly, happy once again.

Sarah thought for a moment. “The opposite of this,” she said, pointing at the figurine of the Goblin King sitting on her table. She would have gotten rid of it ages ago, save for the fact it was mysteriously stuck to it.

Marlene turned to it, and took it in for a moment. Sarah turned back to her book, hoping to find her lost page. She found it, and marked it with her thumb as Marlene’s voice.

“So you you’re saying you want a short, fat, and ugly guy?”

“No,” said Sarah startled. “I meant-“

“Well that’s the opposite,” said Marlene. She looked back at it. “He’s like a Ken doll – perfect, y’know?” She grinned mischievously. “He even has all the parts.”

Sarah’s face turned beet red. His pants did make it rather obvious…always had. And those Barbie dolls had nothing to speak of…

“So are you secretly lusting after a _doll_ then Sarah?” asked Marlene innocently.

Sarah wondered how someone could be so damn _thick_. She knew Jareth was going to be angry later, when he visited. Knowing him he was probably watching right now…


	27. Arse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Prompt Twenty-Five: _**Arse**_

Once upon a time, in a cottage in the middle of the woods lived a woodsman and his second wife. His first had died many years ago in a logging accident, leaving behind a young girl called Sarah. The second wife had married the woodsman and given birth to a young boy named Toby many years later.

Unfortunately, the step-mother was a cruel awful woman, who didn’t even care for her birth child, let alone her stepdaughter. She forced Sarah to do all the chores, while she lazed about, or followed her husband around the woods, and watch the baby.

Sarah did love her brother – though at times he could annoy her. One time when he had terribly bothered her she had shouted of her hatred for him and her dislike of caring for him. Now, the dark haired girl did not truly mean it – she was just tired after a long day of work – but her stepmother heard her and was furious. She boxed the girl’s ears and locked her in her room without supper. The baby too was put in a crib, and whose cries were ignored and Sarah was filled with remorse.

The young girl’s room was in the attic of the house, and not built very well. Through the broken chinks in the floor she was able to hear and see things she’d rather not, but that night it was for the better she listened to her stepmother’s horrible words.

Sarah stuck an ear to the chink, and listened as her stepmother spoke of how poor the family had become and how useless the children were. The father had tried to protest at first, but he wasn’t of shrew mind like the stepmother and was soon reluctantly persuaded. The stepmother then suggested abandoning the children in the woods, and plans were made.

Later on that evening (belly empty, and still very tired) Sarah snuck past the parents bedroom and out of the house near the brook that ran nearby. She resourcefully filled her apron with smooth rocks. Once full, she started to head back to the house when she noticed a strange sight – a barn owl resting on a nearby tree staring at her.

Owls were unusual in that area, and so Sarah rushed even more quickly into the house – so rapidly and noisily she nearly got caught. Luck must have smiling on Sarah for she did make it – though she heard her father mumbling about the door being left open the next morning.

At breakfast the very next day, the stepmother announced that they were all to go out into the woods together to scout out better areas to fall wood. Sarah pretended to be excited by this, but instead was calculating and worried inside. As her stepmother asked, she readied herself and her brother, making sure to be in warm clothes and have supplies.

They set out, and marched till near day in no particular direction. Sarah made sure to bring up the rear, keeping her family in sight, yet dropping stones every here and there, marking the path where she came. So intent was she on her task that she didn’t notice the brownies rolling her stones out of the way, trying to gnaw at them, and burying them. Sarah might have thought of it if she hadn’t been dissuaded from a very early age the following, _the myths the towns’ folk told of the forest being haunted by the center of the woods, and being magical were completely untrue._

If Sarah had known that in fact was the farthest thing from the truth, she _may_ have used bread instead. It would have been a better choice as no birds lived in the woods, and the goblins and brownies wouldn’t have eaten it unless it had been dipped into milk.

At last the quartet stopped. The parents told the children to wait there, while they scouted the area. They were told not to move unless they came back and got them. Sarah nodded solemnly, not planning to listen in the slightest. Toby was deposited in Sarah’s arms and they were left with a small hunk of bread, before the parents left. Sarah fought to control her emotions as they just walked off, her father with only one backwards glance.

Sarah sulked for a moment – even though she _was _going to be back at home by nightfall, she was disappointed with them. She thought they cared for her and Toby at least a bit more than _that. _

She quickly recovered herself though, and splitting the bread into acceptable portions she and her brother snacked. They sat for a while more, before Sarah swung the baby into her arms, and began to walk, searching for the first of her stones.

But her search was fruitless – the stones weren’t where she had left them. Sarah searched, digging through the dirt – looking around, hoping to find the right direction, but it was clear that the stones were gone. Sarah, clutching her brother closer, kept moving. Certainly, if the first ones were gone, the others would still be in place if she just kept going in the right direction, right?

Obviously not, for it began to grow dark and still Sarah hadn’t found a single of her precious stones. Toby was beginning to cry, and so she stopped where she had come to – a little clearing, looking horribly similar to the one she started at, and sat, trying to calm her brother down. It took a while – but Sarah was realizing she had endless amounts of time.

She had nothing to feed her brother, and so she worked to calm him, rocking him to sleep. Sarah herself was sleepy and it wasn’t long before both were curled up, on the forest ground in dreamland.

An owl hooted above, though the siblings did not wake up from their sleep.

Later on, when the sun had already been raised high in the sky, the two woke up to the sounds of their stomachs gurgling indignantly. Groggily, it took Sarah a moment to take in her surroundings, but the moment was all it took for it all to go flooding back in her head. She groaned, but knew she would have to either find food for herself and her brother, or get home quickly. She didn’t think the latter would happen, which meant the former.

Not much after, they set out again. Toby squirmed at having to be carried again, and so Sarah put him down, letting him toddle alongside her. It was a relief for her arms at the very least.

The woods had seemed endless the day before, and still did then. The two stumbled along for hours without coming across a single form of life or habitation. It was when Sarah thought she would nearly drop from exhaustion, taking Toby down with her, when she was able to see the edge of the woods, and the light peeking through the branches.

Cheered at the sight, energy returned to Sarah and she began to eagerly run towards it. Toby gurgled, for something was now _happening_, and it wasn’t long before the two made their way out of the woods.

Or so they thought.

Once the density of the woods had thinned, Sarah realized it was a clearing instead of the end of the edge of the forest, though a rather large one at that. But Sarah didn’t focus on the clearing but instead on the building that lay in it. ()

It seemed to be made of ginger bread – the warm, sweet kind you would smell at the village fair – and decorated with candies, and marzipan windows. Icing lined the roof, there were gumdrops on the doors, funny little faces made of chocolate were on the walls.

Just the sight of it tore at siblings’ stomachs, and without a second thought they rushed towards it, and immediately tore in. They had barely eaten the pieces they had broken out when, a scratchy, deceptive voice interrupted them.

“_Little, little, little mouse._

_Who’s that nibbling on my house?”_

The two jumped back, dropping their treats. They could see a small, hunchbacked figure in the door frame. Its face could not be made out for it was hid beneath a great hat. It was filthy –yet so were the siblings, and they paid no attention to it.

“Oh please sir!” bade Sarah. “We’ve not eaten since yesterday and have been lost in the woods since before then!”

If they could have seen the figure’s face, they would have seen a sly smirk. They couldn’t though, and all they heard was a slightly clucking of the tongue. “Poor dears – lost in the woods! What you must do is come inside – I have much better sweets there, and pancakes as well!” He beckoned inwards. “Come! Come!”

The little boy, moved forward eagerly at once, yet Sarah grabbed the scruff of his shirt. Despite running at the house in the first place – going into the homes of strangers was _incredibly _different.

“I’m not sure…” Sarah started. “Perhaps if you just pointed us in the right direction-”

“Nonsense!” scratched out the figure. With surprising strength, it gripped her arm, pulling her in towards the doorway. “I’ve got food, and maps in here as well as nice fluffy beds…”

She was persuaded (not to mention her arm was still in his grasp) and she crossed the doorframe, brother in hand. The door slammed shut ominously, and the dark room illuminated revealing cages and goblins running about.

But most importantly – the figure was gone, and in it’s place was an impeccably dressed blond man. A lecherous grin on his face, he leaned in towards Sarah.

“Oh yes those beds will come in handy…”

Sometime later – Toby had been tucked away, in a corner of the never ending cottage (it seemed to have more and more rooms every times she examined it) that Sarah couldn’t find. Between evading the witchman (who begged her to call him Jareth or Master) and cleaning up after the goblins as she was forced to, she didn’t have the time to search for him, though she desperately wished to. But whenever Jareth wasn’t chasing after her – he was tucked away with Toby and Sarah wasn’t going to try and spend more time with _him._

Instead she set herself to work, befriending the goblins, listening to their inane conversations in the hopes of hearing a snippet of where in the cottage her brother could be. The goblins, though at first wary, were happy to have someone who would listen to them and eagerly told her all they knew. Unfortunately mostly what they knew was how many sausages would fit up one’s nose…

But at last she heard what she wanted to, and Sarah began to plan, for she knew she wouldn’t just be able to snatch her brother and run off into the woods. For one thing they wouldn’t be able to survive – but Jareth was protective of what he called ‘his’ and wouldn’t let go without a fight.

And so Sarah prepared. A few days went by, her formulating and hypothesizing until at last she thought she had the perfect combination to save herself and her brother. Once she had it done, she set it into motion.

On one of the days when the witchman had gone to check on his ‘heir’, Sarah got to work, dashing to the kitchens, whipping out pots and pans, and began to combine ingredients away. (She knew his sense of smell was good and even the slightest bit off would probably lead him to suspect). At last, nearly done, she set things aside to wait, for she knew that he would come to wherever she was searching for her.

Not much later, in a poof of glitter that tended to make her laugh (she hid it behind what was supposed to be a smile), the witchman appeared. His eyebrows rose in surprise at the site of they young Sarah, complaisant for once, and smiling at him.

Sarah held her breath as he moved towards her, one thing obvious, before she piped up, “I was baking.”

“Were you?” he genially asked, glancing around, but firmly directing his attention back towards Sarah.

She nodded, pointing towards the contents he so easily glanced over. “See there’s the flour and eggs and chocolate sauce…”

As she suspected, he turned again, and examined the contents more carefully. At last, he leeringly turned back towards her. “I’m sure there are better uses for _that._”

Sarah agreed silently – it would be lovely for throwing in his face – but she lied, going along with her plan. “Oh yes, there are,” she nodded solemnly.

With a grin, he took a large step towards her but she dodged (well practiced), and cried, “But it must be cooked first!”

He gave a horrible pout, and Sarah’s heart leapt. This _couldn’t_ go wrong – he was buying her innocent act…

“I do have a problem though,” she sighed, mournfully. He immediately came towards her, wrapping an arm about her shoulders. She resisted the urge to shudder and throw it off. “I’ve never cooked anything before since that was stepmother’s job – I have no idea if the oven is warm enough!”

The witchman looked first at the large oven – and then at the girl under his arm – at the chocolate, and then at the girl again. No thoughts were necessary.

“Is there any way if I can help?”

It was all she could do not to laugh.

“Oh would you?” Sarah asked hopefully. She stood, pulling the witchman after her, and toward the oven. “I think I _know_ how but I don’t think I could do it, as I’m too scared.”

Playing to his protective side – check.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Well,” she wrangled her hands. “If you could just stick your head in there and tell me if it’s warm enough it would speed things up _so much_!”

He gave her one glance – did he suspect her? – before nodding, doing as she bade.

His head safely in, Sarah dashed behind and wincing, pushed on his arse. With a yelp, he fell into the deep oven, the door slammed shut behind him. She grabbed chains, locking him in (ones of iron), ignoring the screams.

Once done, she dashed out and through the never ending cottage to where her brother was. In a room decorated in tastes of skulls and other vulgar pictures, her brother sat on the floor, while watched by a snoozing goblin.

“Home?” asked the boy, reaching his arms up to his sister. She wiped a tear away (how long had they been there?) and picked him up, cradling him close.

“Not yet,” she said thoughtfully. “I’ve got to get some food before we head home. There’s something cooking in the oven that’ll be quite nice…”


	28. Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

  
Author's notes:

_SPECIAL AUTHOR'S NOTE: _This chapter has no cannibalism, deaths, or character bashing. Fluffiness is pretty much all there is.

* * *

Prompt Twenty-Six: _**Book**_

_Excerpt from ‘Labyrinth’ by Robin Zaker…_

\- She looked to him, words finally coming to mind, a slight surprise that she’d come up with the words playing on her lips. “You have no power over me,” the young girl said.

The young girl saw the King’s look of dismay as he threw the crystal into the air, and collapsed, reverting to avian form. The room around the two began to disintegrate as well. She glanced about as they fell, catching glimpses of this and that – memories from her travels – before landing smoothly on the floor of her home.

She saw the owl fly out, and she heard the clock chime only twelve times. Her hand flew to her coral lips, surprised at how little time had passed. But that thought reminded her of her brother – the one she now knew she had always loved, and she dashed up the stairs calling for him.

The babe was asleep, and looked to have been so for a long time. The young girl kissed his forehead, leaving to attend to other things. Ones she knew she could deal with, now that she knew her dear brother was safe.

The young girl then sat in her room. Everything lying about reminded the girl of her recent adventures. A ragged toy reminded her of wild beasts. A book end reminded of a dear friend. A music box was a shadow of a ballroom. The tune it played an echo of one once sung.

The girl was indeed dismayed that her adventures were now done. She knew come morning things would be similar to how things used to be, stepmother ordering and baby crying. No matter how appreciating she was now, the girl knew those things wouldn’t change.

But…her adventures didn’t _have_ to be done, did they? Couldn’t she still visit with her friends? Or escape Underground? Or have thrilling encounters with handsome Kings?

No, she realized. She couldn’t. But there _was_ something else that could most definitely be done.

With not even a final glance, the girl spoke quickly, the words rushing out of her mouth – “I wish the goblins would come and take me away. Right now!”-


	29. Polish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

  
Author's notes:

_A/N: At this time I would like to claim ownership to Hurdy the Goblin, who showed up in ‘Process’. I do like the little fellow and plan to have him show up in ‘A Different Journey’ eventually…_

* * *

Prompt Twenty-Seven: _**Polish**_

Hurdy the goblin adjusted his hat and began polishing His Majesty’s boots again. Light glinted, but they weren’t shiny enough. Not enough!

Above, the King adjusted his jacket and peered into the mirror. He then frowned, mumbling.

“There’s flair, yes, but this color _is_ overdone. Perhaps purple – no …”

Hurdy then began to spit onto his cloth when the King addressed him.

“You! What do you think of this?”

The goblin looked up and was dazzled. SPARKLY! He nodded furiously, clapping.

The King sighed and moved back to his wardrobe.

“Chartreuse does make me look wide. Black? No did that already…”


	30. Bonus Chapter: Magnet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In response to the HPFC 50 Art of Words Challenge. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot on the relationship of Jareth/Sarah._

Bonus Chapter by the Request of Crystal Shores: _**Magnet**_

The two were drawn together – despite everything that was important, everything that defined their world, they resisted it.

One naked and bare, was younger – light practically radiated from her. The other though was clouded, shrouded in shadows – but in fact was the paler of the two, and older, more lined, wiser as well. Opposites – were they a positive and negative? They couldn’t say.

But between the two, gravity was given a new meaning – a definition that existed from a line between the two beings. The magnetic force was change, redefined – a thread pulling those two hands together across the ballroom.


End file.
